The Phoenix Force and the Chaos Force—two of the oldest powers in the universe. That was why Wanda now looked at Lorien with such warmth.
"It seems like fate," Wanda said with a smile.
"I think so too," Lorien replied with a grin.
It really was a pleasant feeling.
Wanda then let her guard down completely. She reached for the milk tea Lorien had pushed toward her and took a small sip. Just like Gwen before, her charming eyes lit up. She gazed at the cup with curiosity.
"This is amazing! I've never had anything this good before. What is it?"
"Milk tea," Lorien explained. "A drink made by blending tea bags with various seasonings."
"Oh~" Wanda nodded in understanding, then brought the straw back to her lips and took a few more sips. She savored the taste, swallowed, and smiled.
"Delicious!"
Like Gwen, she gave the milk tea a glowing review.
And so, neither of them brought up business right away. Wanda, warmed by an unexpected fondness for Lorien, completely forgot the reason she'd come and simply started chatting with him.
Lorien hadn't forgotten, but he was more than happy to talk. With male customers, he preferred to get things done quickly and send them on their way—efficiency above all else. With beautiful female customers, though, it was different. The topics could range from food to movies, lingerie to cosmetics, travel to setting up plans, and more.
In short, Lorien enjoyed the conversation. He had nothing else pressing to do anyway.
Their chat began with milk tea, then drifted to the furniture and collectibles in Lorien's office. When Wanda learned they were all gifts from clients, she was genuinely surprised. If they were willing to give him so much, they must truly value his abilities.
Soon after, Wanda and Lorien got up from their seats and strolled over to an antique cash register, continuing their conversation.
"Is this a cash register?" Wanda reached out as if to touch it, but stopped and glanced at Lorien. "Can I?"
"Of course." Lorien gestured that it was fine—after all, his magic could restore these items to brand-new condition.
"This one is made with about ninety-five percent silver," he explained. "It's not especially old though, maybe just a century."
Wanda brushed her fingers across its surface. It could be called a work of art, as the entire exterior was covered in hand-stamped secret patterns, giving it a refined, elegant look.
"It's beautiful."
She withdrew her hand and turned her attention to the other pieces in the room—metal vases, murals, silver tableware, small sculptures, and more. At a glance, she could tell they were all quite valuable, so she refrained from touching anything else.
...
After finishing their talk about the office's collection, the two returned to their seats and shifted to other topics.
Wanda reminisced about her hometown, mentioning that she never really liked being a superhero. She had joined only half against her will. Lately, she said, she'd been feeling very sad. She explained to Lorien that she had never meant to hurt anyone—that in trying to save people, she lost control of her explosive powers and caused accidental harm.
The conversation turned to her thoughts on the internet. If possible, Wanda said, she would move to a small town with few people, somewhere she wouldn't feel such crushing pressure.
And so, Wanda treated Lorien as someone she could confide in. The entire afternoon passed that way—Wanda speaking, Lorien listening, offering advice or simply agreeing with her.
By the time she finished talking, her milk tea was nearly gone.
Anyone could see what that meant: when a woman starts sharing her secrets and telling you about her life, that's the beginning of her relying on you—and slowly, she'll come to trust you. What happens after that depends entirely on the listener's intentions and choices.
As for Lorien, well… he could hardly be called a saint.
"Slurp… slurp…"
When Wanda drained the last of her drink, she realized with surprise just how long they had been talking.
"Sorry, I think I've been doing all the talking." She looked a little embarrassed, aware she had taken up so much of his time.
Lorien shook his head. "Listening is a kind of psychological counseling too."
At the words "psychological counseling," Wanda remembered why she had come in the first place.
"I forgot to mention—Mr. Tony Stark gave me your card and suggested I come."
"Tony?" Lorien raised a brow, then smiled. "In that case, I should thank him."
"Thank him?" Wanda asked, puzzled.
Lorien glanced at the clock—4:58 p.m.—and stood.
"Thank him for introducing me to a mature, beautiful client," he said with a smile. "He's boosted my business and brightened my day."
"Come on, it's afternoon tea time. Let's go find a café—or someplace with good desserts and a nice view—and keep talking."
He pushed back his chair, stepped toward the door, and held it open for her.
Wanda's cheeks warmed slightly at his teasing, though as a confident, mature woman she didn't shy away. She gave him a playful glance.
"You're making me regret going out dressed like this."
Then she walked past him and out the door.
Lorien closed it behind them, silently deciding that once it opened again, he'd be leaving with her.